


i am sitting in the morning at the diner on the corner

by HgBird



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén
Genre: Coffee Shops, Flash Fic, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Ortega, POV Second Person, do i know how ortega thinks? no but neither does sidestep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HgBird/pseuds/HgBird
Summary: You want to see this smile everyday. You can’t go another seven years without this smile, and that hits you in the stomach, takes your breath in a way that no one ever has before. So you almost say the words you didn’t say back then.Te amo. I love you.
Relationships: Ortega/Sidestep (Fallen Hero)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	i am sitting in the morning at the diner on the corner

This is neither yours, nor his. This is new. This is both of yours. This is coffee in the morning, before you go your separate ways. You to the Rangers, and he to whatever it is he does these days. He is keeping secrets, but then again, so are you.

You pour milk into your coffee. He scowls as you add a generous tablespoon of sugar. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you say, smiling softly. “I never developed your taste for the stuff.”

“I don’t drink it for the taste,” he answers. He drinks his coffee black, and he drinks too much of it. It’s not healthy—his body doesn’t need the amount of caffeine he consumes, but any attempt to stop him would fall upon deaf ears. 

You wonder how he sleeps.

You know he doesn’t.

You watch him stare out the window, watching a dog with big black paws jump up onto its owner. Her dress is soiled by muddied paw prints, but she doesn’t seem to mind. It is running in circles, and she laughs as she untangles the leash from around its legs. 

You are watching him, and he is smiling. It is not his usual smirk, the one that makes you want to grab him by the shoulders and go, _what happened to you?_ No, this is a genuine smile. It curls the corners of his mouth, softens the edges of his face.

You want to see this smile everyday. You can’t go another seven years without this smile, and that hits you in the stomach, takes your breath in a way that no one ever has before. So you almost say the words you didn’t say back then. _Te amo. I love you._ You want to scream them. And in your head, you do. But your thoughts are wrapped in static, and he cannot hear them. He will never know unless you say them aloud.

“What?” he asks.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I was not.”

“You were.”

“So what if I was?” You give him a wink as you relent. “If that’s a crime, then arrest me.” You’ve leaned forward, your arms on the table, wrists up, offering yourself to him.

“Sorry,” he says, sipping his coffee, “but I’m still not putting the suit back on.”

You blink. He’s smiling again, a playful thing. It is not the unabashed one he reserves for dogs when their owners aren’t watching, but it’s not the cynical smirk coupled with biting words either. It’s the one that you think has become yours. Something for you alone, something softer than what he’s used to showing nowadays. The walls aren’t down yet, but they don’t have to be—you’re climbing them.

He’s leaned back now, and you almost take the hint and pull away. But you linger. You wiggle your fingers, asking him to take the bait, to be ensnared willingly. It takes two to tango, after all. You’ve told him as much.

He reaches forward, slowly, tentatively—hesitates—you can see it on his face. He almost pulls back, but then he doesn’t, so you don’t either. 

His hand is warm in yours. 

You entwine your fingers with his. And you think the words. _Estoy enamorado de ti._ But Ricardo, he cannot hear you unless you say them aloud.

He is looking away now, out the window, even though the dog is gone. He cannot look at you, and he cannot hear you. You love him. You don’t think he knows it in the way you need him to, but you can’t say it in a way that won’t hurt him. So for now, you won’t say it aloud. He doesn’t need to hear you.

You are climbing the walls anyway.

“¿Por qué?” he asks.


End file.
